


Three Tries at Futility

by tainry



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Prowl snark, Technorganic hungy-bungy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tainry/pseuds/tainry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Blackarachnia wants to kill Optimus, but doesn't. With guest commentary by Prowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Tries at Futility

**Author's Note:**

> One of those fics you don't want to write, but writing it is the easiest way to get it out of your system. XD

Part I

This feeling must be like the enjoyment Megatron had in killing Starscream over and over. He was so easy to draw near. So easy to get him to hold her close, and he knew she would stab him and be gone. Every time. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch you when you fell.” So quiet she had to focus to hear him.

What? And Grimlock wasn’t around to make this more entertaining. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t have my scanners tuned to find your altered energy signature.”

He wasn’t making a speech, was he?

“I’m sorry that, had we found you, your fate on Cybertron would have been horrible.” He bent his head and touched her lips with his.

She froze. Such an odd sensation. Her fangs were poised, but she wanted to hear his voice a little more.

“I’m sorry it took a thousand stellar cycles for you to find me.” He touched her lips for longer this time, moving his slightly. His body, his hands, were growing hot. 

Did he think mere words would make up for a millennium of torment? She would laugh in his face but his optics were shuttered. Things in her organic half, it must only be that half, she told herself, were growing warmer, swelling with some disgusting organic fluid. She cycled air through her spiracles and pumped faster what coolants remained in her truncated mechanical system. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to help you.” His hands moved on her body, brazen but gentle. Pressing her waist to his grille so she could feel his engine revving, his fans whirring desperately, the pulse of his spark. Caressing her helm as though it didn’t hide something hideous. Tracing the eye-spots on her chest with a trembling fingertip. He kissed her again, unable to hold back a soft moan, nuzzling her mouth until her lips parted, too.

What the fragging Pit was he doing to her? Ah, but by the AllSpark it felt good. Her pedipalps dripped with venom, vibrating with the need to sink into him. She wanted him to… She wanted more. More of this feeling, more of this drowning that seemed to be shutting all her higher processors down. More of this hunger for the touch of lips on lips, devouring each other but becoming more not less in doing so. 

“And I’m s-sorry I can’t give you mmmore than this, because I’m only a robot.” 

The three nanokliks it had taken him to speak, when their mouths were not touching, were entirely too long. She growled and pulled him in again, clawing at his shoulders. He wrapped his arms tight about her, armor clashing on not-chitin, rhythmic and imperative. Almost as though he knew what the pounding of their sparks was doing to her. The needs this motion awakened. She cried out into his mouth. He couldn’t understand. At the culmination of this act she must kill him. Only while dying, poisoned, could the males give up their seed. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he leaned back to take her weight. Her arachnoid abdomen throbbed, curling under, tip probing in a futile quest. She rocked against him harder, and the fool caressed her, squeezing and stroking in encouragement. A sobbing, panicky laugh bubbled up and spilled from between her lips. There were no eggs to fertilize, even in full spider-mode she was a hybrid, sterile. The vibration and heat of his engine revving against her body was driving her mad. 

No! I will not be a slave to this form! 

No, she cried in her mind, but his hands remembered her old body too well. His soft groans spoke too eloquently of a thousand years of longing for one he had thought dead. He wasn’t going to let her go. The realization was terrible and sweet. 

Her robot-half’s overload triggered the fatal organic convulsion. She arched her neck and screamed, sinking her palps deep, pumping more poison into him than she’d ever used on anyone before, the release felt so wondrously good. She rode his body to the ground, a glorious impact, her own body squirming in ecstasy. 

Screaming again, she pulled free, fumbling at her waist for the ampoules of antivenin. She would have to use all of it, or be denied the pleasure of ever stinging him again. Cursing him, cursing herself, with shaking hands she got the serum injected and threw the gun away, staggering to a safe distance. He wouldn’t awaken soon, but at least now he would awaken. She laughed now, at her own stupidity, knowing she would do this again. And so would he.

Yes, it felt good. Just like Megatron killing Starscream.

 

Part II

“Don’t get your actuators in a bunch. I didn’t come up here to kill you.”

“This time.” Prowl watched her keenly, but he didn’t move. They were both fond of high perches, that was fair enough. “What do you want?”

“Nothing you’re up to giving me, little Autobot.” 

They were silent for a while, with a peculiar, wary sort of companionableness, watching the stars turn in the dispassionate sky. 

Prowl, uncharacteristically, broke the silence first. “Is it killing him yourself that you need, or would you be satisfied by simply watching him die?”

“What?” What kind of Metallikato head game was this? Or, if the rumors she had heard were true, this one had spent a little too much time with that psycho, Lockdown. 

“If you want to watch him die I can show you how it happened.” His holo-projector lit, displaying a flickering scene between them. Optimus’ shattered body splayed at the center of a spiderweb of broken pavement. The Autobots and their annoying little organic nit gathered around. Optimus murmured something ridiculous…and then she heard his engine fail, saw his color fade. Saw the spark-line on the medi-bot’s screen go flat. And something in her went still and cold.

Prowl cut off the transmission. “Happy?”

“Lies,” she snarled, but her tone was hollow. Unconsciously her hand had gone to her chest. She clenched it to stop it trembling. 

“If you say so,” he replied calmly, and jetted away. 

She hissed, but it wasn’t worth the trouble to chase him now. She could catch him easily enough later. The obnoxious yellow one would distract him for her. She should kill them both for this. It had to be a trick. But the image replayed in her CPU with perfect clarity, over and over. And though it should have, it didn’t make her happy. 

 

Part III

Catching her palps in one hand, he wrapped his other arm around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and with three running strides slammed her between himself and the wall. She hissed and fought, but he only pressed her harder, jerking her upward so they were optic-to-optic. 

“I,” he snarled through bared teeth, and his voice rumbled deeper than she’d ever heard it, growling, angry but not at her. “Will never give up on you. Ever.” He slammed her again for good measure, knowing he wasn’t really doing any damage, it simply held her attention. “But if you could STOP TRYING TO KILL ME it would be nice.” 

He ducked the stab as he released her, there was a brief flurry of blows exchanged, and she was away. Prime put his back to the wall and sank down, covering his face with one hand.

“That went well,” Prowl commented helpfully.


End file.
